


Lovesong

by Esca



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Fingering, Humanstuck, Les8ifins, Oral, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esca/pseuds/Esca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And yet Aranea relishes, marvels in these differences that separate her and Meenah into secular wholes, individuals, these instances of black versus white, because they are what remind her of why she loves Meenah so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovesong

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck I just adore these les8ifins so. They belong together.

Aranea loves Meenah, despite having never said it aloud.

They’re sitting splayed out on a loveseat, limbs colliding and twining as they encircle one another. She is playing a game of Solitaire on her phone, though admittedly she is not as into it as what she could be. It is hard to be enamored with the game on her iPhone when the blond twenty-something’s best friend is slightly drunk off of vanilla creme flavored vodka and looking painfully attractive clad in a band t-shirt emblazoned with British alternative rock band The Cure. Meenah’s humming _Friday I'm In Love,_ little wisps of dark hairs peeking from the lines of her panties as she shows no concerns for modesty while hanging one leg over the arm of the paisley-print furniture, the other loosely resting off the side, fuchsia-painted toes digging over and over into the plush carpeting.

Her head is laying comfortably in Aranea’s lap--the blond herself is less inclined to walk around in just a t-shirt and her underwear. The soft cerulean satin of her nightgown feels good against Meenah’s cheek as she presses her face against her thigh, index finger tracing nondescript patterns on her smooth knee.

They’re completely unalike. They don’t prefer a lot of the same things. Meenah would rather watch wrestling on television and go to the beach, and Aranea fancies more catching up on the latest gossip and spending her time amongst books, the slight musty smell a comfort that only a bibliophile could love. And yet Aranea relishes, marvels in these differences, these instances of black versus white.

Meenah sits up slowly and silently motions to her long, elegant braids. Aranea already knows what she wants, and she simply smiles, blue-lacquered fingernails gingerly pulling out the rubber bands and unthreading her hair until it falls in subtle, sultry waves to her rear. When Meenah leans in and presses their foreheads together, Aranea can smell the lingering remnants of alcohol on her breath, and she smiles, entwining their fingers together and enjoying the closeness.

She loves her. She loves all the little things about Meenah, even the things that drive her insane. The fact that she drinks out of the container of milk and then sometimes forgets to put it back in the refrigerator. That she can’t be arsed to shave her legs or under her arms unless _she_ feels like it--and it will never be for anyone other but her, no matter how many times Aranea complains. Her lack of cooking skills and the way she always manages to somehow shrink the laundry or turn it pink.

She’s still perfect.

She’s beautiful when she laughs and curses like a sailor, and when she screams and cries and pulls at her braids in frustration because her anxiety gets too much for her to handle sometimes. When she begs for Aranea not to leave to go to her job because she doesn’t want to be at their flat by her lonesome.

Meenah is never a burden. And even though they’re best friends in title only, when they’re close like this and she presses her lips to hers, just as she’s doing now and runs her fingertips through Aranea’s sleek blond flip, tugging and pulling and evoking little sighs and gasps that spur her further into scintillating French kisses, Aranea wants her to say that she loves her back just as much as she loves her, that she wants for them to be _so much more._

“Do you remember when we first met?” she breathes out in between kisses, blue eyes like that of oceania staring straight into Meenah’s soul.

“You know I do. Tryin’ so hard to get bitches to listen to your expositions that you were even forking over green just to convince them to lend an ear your way...” Meenah rasps out, years of smoking deepening her voice to a sexy alto that always leaves a lasting impression on Aranea every time she hears it.

“When you have something to say that you believe is important, you’ll do what is necessary to have the message be spread...”

“Think somethin’ else could be spread right now... Open them legs for me, Princess.”

She doesn’t let anyone else but Meenah call her such juvenile names. Cheeks flushing a faint pink, she’s pushed down onto her elbows and her thighs are plied open with a little help from the thin, limber young woman above her. Meenah grasps the fabric of her nightgown and pulls it up and off, kissing the slight swell of belly fat that never seemed to want to go away no matter what fad diet Aranea attempted, slim, cold hands touching the swollen curve of her breasts and making the blond underneath her shiver slightly at the variance in their natural temperatures.

Meenah is always brisk and chilly, and as the pads of her fingers traverse Aranea’s flesh, dusky pink nipples harden, eliciting a soft, barely audible gasp that is swallowed in another kiss, the frames of their respective corrective eyewear bumping together and making both giggle and murmur little apologies.

Aranea always takes the passive role whenever they fool around, but tonight she is feeling audacious, bold. As they engage in another kiss, Meenah making herself comfortable in between her full thighs, she hooks her thumbs in the elastic of her panties and slowly slips them down to her knees, Meenah shifting and moving to help rid her of the offending article completely. She teasingly runs her index fingertip along the crevasse of her labia, her reward the dark-haired girl tightening her grasp on her tits and biting down on her bottom lip. Aranea continues plying her further, soft hairs tickling her digits as she uses her index and middle finger to spread her open and massage her slick inner folds and creases in gentle circular motions.

Alternating to her index and ring finger, she subtly slips her middle digit inside of her only just so, but removes it as quickly as she penetrates her with it, making Meenah utter a frustrated sound that is like music to Aranea’s selfish ears. She could tease her further, make her beg, but the blond is not a cruel person by nature. Kissing Meenah sweetly, she fingers her slow and deep, eventually adding her index finger to join her middle and twisting them in counterclockwise motions, using her thumb to massage her clit in the same agonizing fashion that she does her.

All the while, Meenah is savagely kissing her, her hands roaming, touching, fondling, nearly tearing her innocent little white panties off as she kisses a trail down her body and moans her name out in her smoker’s rasp like a mantra, hips bucking. “Fuck... Aranea... Araneaaaa... Sweet fucking bitch, fuck my puss, Princess...”

If Aranea has any regrets, it’s that it had taken her this long to drum up the courage to touch Meenah just like this. She’s even more beautiful, so savage and erotic as she undulates her body, all raw emotion and need. _Primal._

She cums with a loud shout, back arched and her hipbones and ribcage visible to the naked eye. Aranea feels indulgent, self-satisfied, all these adjectives that are the norm for her best friend to feel and not her as she licks clear epithelial fluids off her fingers and lets out a cry of shock as she’s spread open wide and her legs are hoisted over Meenah’s bony shoulders. The raven-haired woman spreads her labia open widely with her thumbs and devours her with her tongue, eating her out like she’s a delicacy, a succulence.

Aranea is reduced to shivers, moans, soft screams as Meenah doodles the alphabet on her clitoris with the ball of her tongue jewelry, nails digging into the couch cushions as her soft golden hair frames her face like a halo. She groans lowly as two slim digits are thrust in and out of her cunt, and she chokes back a sob when Meenah curls her fingers teasingly and removes them.

“Shh, Princess.”

The blond opens her mouth to protest, but is silenced into another shout when those same fingers in her taint are wiggled slowly into her ass one-by-one. “Fuck!”

“What you think I’m doin’ here, Aranea, damn, girl? You want a little overtime, I see how it is...” Meenah smirks, delirious on her power-trip as she delves her tongue into Aranea and tastes her fully. Swirling the slick muscle around, she purses her lips, creating a suctioning pressure as she pulls back with a soft ‘pop’, resuming her attentions back to the little spongy bundle of nerves she was so content to tease earlier.

It takes Aranea a little bit longer to reach her climax than Meenah, always, but when she ascends to nirvana, it is literally explosive, the blond squirting her juices onto her lover’s face and flushing darkly. It’s not the first time, it’s not the last time, and yet she still always feels the need to apologize.

Meenah hushes her with a kiss and licks her lips, using her band t-shirt to wipe the excess off her face. “You did good, Princess. Always.”

Gods, how Aranea loves Meenah, especially during these times. The smaller girl is gathered into the Pisces’ arms and kissed to sleep.

She wishes Meenah would have told her that she loves her. Then she too would finally have a reason to say it back.

_Whenever I'm alone with you_  
 _You make me feel like I am home again_  
 _Whenever I’m alone with you_  
 _You make me feel like I am whole again_

Shifting slightly, Aranea’s eyes flutter open, and she registers the comfortable weight of Meenah still asleep and snoring softly on top of her. Sunlight is spilling through the blinds, warm on their skin. With a smile, she presses a kiss to her best friend’s cheek, and frowns, looking around to see where the noise that woke her up is coming from.

_Whenever I'm alone with you_  
 _You make me feel like I am young again_  
 _Whenever I'm alone with you_  
 _You make me feel like I am fun again_

The screen of Meenah’s crappy phone is lighting up. Wriggling out from underneath of her carefully so as not to wake her, she scampers over to the coffee table in the nude and plucks it up, blinking at the number on the screen.

Why is her number the one showing up?

Frowning in confusion as the call goes to ‘missed’, she sits back down on the cushions and crosses one leg over the other. Meenah’s phone lights up again, and it is then that she remembers what it was she was doing last night with her cellular device. Reaching in between the cushions, she grasps onto her iPhone and sighs. She is about to end the call, but the lyrics of Meenah’s ringtone make her pause.

_However far away_  
 _I will always love you_  
 _However long I stay_  
 _I will always love you_  
 _Whatever words I say_  
 _I will always love you_  
 _I will always love you_

Biting onto her bottom lip as her eyes water, she shakes Meenah none-too-gently awake.

“What the fuck, trick--”

“Do you love me?”

Meenah rubs her eyes and sits up, and she purses her lips, giving Aranea a lip as she folds her arms across her still-clothed chest. “Uh, gee no fuckin’ duh? Gosh, bitch, I thought we was girlfriends and shit and everythin’ for how many months long now? You’re talkin’ like we’re still only just bee-eff-effs.”

A little giggle escapes Aranea. It’s slight, barely audible. But soon it transforms into outright guffaws, and she’s clutching her sides, desperate for Meenah not to see the curve of her belly wiggle as she laughs.

“I’ll bite.”

“It’s just...” she’s still giggling even as she sits down next to Meenah and is brought into her arms and held close, “Only you, Meenah. Only you would decide that we’re together and not even have the audacity to inform me.”

“I just figured you were already knowing."

"I know for sure now!"

"Good. Then do me a solid and tell me you love me back."

Aranea grabs her cellphone and presses the 'send' button, smiling deviously. 

_However far away_  
 _I will always love you_  
 _However long I stay_  
 _I will always love you_  
 _Whatever words I say_  
 _I will always love you_  
 _I will always love you_

"Atta girl."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :o)


End file.
